


Cookie Raids!

by raiyana



Series: The Dwelf series [35]
Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Cookie Raids, Cookies, Dwalin Loves Cookies, Dworin Week, Fluff, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-11
Updated: 2017-07-11
Packaged: 2018-12-01 01:23:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11475666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raiyana/pseuds/raiyana
Summary: As promised, the very much NOT sad fill of a Dworin week prompt 'Good times'.Featuring Fíli & Kíli as small dwarflings.





	Cookie Raids!

**Author's Note:**

> Ends on a slightly smutty note, I guess.

Dwalin was standing in the kitchen when he felt the tugging. Looking down at the small face that stared up at him hopefully, Dwalin smiled. “Cookies?” Kíli asked, giving his best puppy eyes. Dwalin chuckled, ruffling his dark hair with a large palm.

“Cookies, eh, karkith?” The little boy nodded seriously. Dwalin crouched down, leaning in conspiratorially. Kíli grinned, the game familiar. “You know what we need, then, Kíli-lad, don’t ye,” Dwalin rumbled, catching sight of Fíli’s golden head around the corner of the doorway. The older dwarfling ran into the kitchen with a loud war-cry, echoed by his younger brother:

“Cookie-raid!”

Dwalin grinned. Scooping up a dwarfling in each arm, he felt Fíli scamper up to sit securely on one of his broad shoulders. Kíli – less brave when it came to scaling the heights that was Dwalin – settled contently on his arm, pulling out the tiny toy axe Bifur had carved for his fourth name-day.

“Du bekâr!” Fíli cried loudly, showing the way with his own toy sword and a fierce scowl copied from his uncle Thorin on his face. Dwalin tried not to laugh, as he obediently jogged through the house.

“Are the cookies in here?” he asked, as they entered each room, making Fíli and Kíli both cry out loud ‘No!’s and continue to the next room. Frís looked up from her mending with a calm smile, while Dís simply shook her head in fond exasperation.

“Only one each, lads,” she called after them as the raiding party retreated from the sitting room. “That includes you, Dwalin!”

Charging onwards, Dwalin clambered over tables and chairs – or, as Fíli proclaimed, strode across mountains and valleys – enjoying the sound of the dwarflings’ laughter. Reaching the front door of the house, he opened it just in time to startle Thorin who was coming home from the forge.

“Cookie-raid, Dwalin?” the dark-haired Prince of Durin’s Folk asked, pressing his lips against Dwalin’s cheek in a quick greeting and ruffling Kíli’s hair fondly.

“The Evil guard tris to stop us!” Fíli yelled, brandishing his small sword at Thorin, his firm grip on Dwalin’s hair helping him keep his balance.

“Yeah!” came Kíli’s voice a few seconds later. Thorin grinned.

“The Evil guard has taken a hostage!” he exclaimed, deftly picking Kíli from Dwalin’s arms and tickling the small dwarfling who resembled him so much. Kíli shrieked with laughter.

“Oh, no,” Dwalin said, trying to stem his own laughter. “We must come to the rescue, Fíli Fabarâl!”

“Chaaarge!” Fíli commanded, also hooting with laughter as Dwalin took advantage of his free arms to launch a full-scale tickle attack on Thorin. When Thorin crumbled to the floor, Kíli joined the attack, until his Uncle was pleading mercy beneath the onslaught.

“Ahh, do you surrender, Thorin Uzbad?” Dwalin asked devilishly, his deft hands finding all the right spots.

“I yield, I yield!” Thorin cried, breathless with laughter.

“The Evil Guard is defeated,” Dwalin said, while Fíli nodded proudly. “Now he’s been enslaved to do our bidding!” the warrior chuckled, winking at Thorin as he pulled him to his feet, Kíli still nestled in the crook of his arm.

“Onwards, to cookies!” Fíli cried from his vantage point, his sword pointing towards the pantry, where Dís kept the cookie jar on the top shelf, out of reach of small fingers. Dwalin obediently went for the door, Thorin trailing behind him with Kíli waving his axe in the air.

Reaching the jar, Fíli reached in for his prize, holding up the cookie with an expression bordering on reverence. Thorin cracked up laughing; the look was copied straight from Dwalin, who scowled playfully at him. Kíli’s small hand found his own reward in the jar, nibbling happily as Thorin returned him to the floor. Fíli slid down Dwalin’s arm, grabbing his brother’s hand and dragging him off to the sitting room to show off their prizes to Dís and Frís. Picking two cookies from the jar, Thorin held out one while he bit into the other. Dwalin returned the jar to its shelf, nicking his cookie from Thorin’s hand.

“So I am your slave now, Dwalin?” he smirked, chuckling when Dwalin stroked his beard thoughtfully, munching his cookie. He nodded. “And what would you have me do, O Master?” Thorin whispered into Dwalin’s ear, nipping the lobe gently.

“Come here and kiss me sweetly,” Dwalin commanded, returning Thorin’s smirk. Pulling Thorin closer, he leaned against the kitchen table as he accepted his sweet reward. Sliding his thick fingers through Thorin’s long dark hair, Dwalin smirked against Thorin’s lips, feeling his lover’s kiss turn hungry. One of his hands travelled down Thorin’s back, following the corded muscles to the small of his back and cupping his arse gently.

Thorin kissed his way slowly to Dwalin’s other ear, his tongue playing with the cuff. “Take me to bed, Dwalin,” he breathed, pressing his hips insistently against Dwalin’s, making them both groan softly.

“Oh, really?” Dwalin smirked. “Me wee slave’s a wanton one, hmm?” With little apparent effort, he picked Thorin up, making the blacksmith prince wrap his legs around his strong hips as he carried him to their shared bedroom.

“Work was slow today,” Thorin admitted. “I had plenty time to think of… other things,” he moaned, rubbing himself against the bulge in Dwalin’s breeches. Dwalin grinned, catching him up in another ardent kiss as he toed the door shut behind them.

“Well, that does sound intriguing, me wee wanton,” he rumbled, his voice turning more gravelly, “tell me more.”

Thorin chuckled, continuing his slow rubbing. “I’m sure you know just what I want… Master.”


End file.
